A few slow minutes passed, feeling like years. The gray-skinned boy was asleep.
He had worn himself out from all the crying and wailing, and sleep had finally overpowered him.
He was slumped against the cave wall, his feet and hands bound, his mouth gagged.
His gray cheeks were streaked with the tracks of dried tears.
Soli stared at his innocent, childlike face. He might be a savage, but that's not his fault.
Kids don't get to choose where they're born or their lot in life. They come into this world pure and innocent. It's life that changes them.
A pained expression crossed Soli's face every time he looked at the gray boy's tear-stained face.
He felt a tightness in his chest, and his mind kept replaying the scene: the small gray boy pinned under his knee, gasping, fighting for his right to breathe.
Soli bowed his head. With both hands, he swept back his long, black-and-white hair that had fallen over his face.
"Damn it... Damn it... I did it again."
The words came out in a broken whisper, but they carried a heavy weight.
Soli leaned against the damp cave wall, the cold seeping into his back, soaking his bare skin with the water trickling down the stone.
In front of him, the boy was asleep. Even in sleep, he looked sorrowful. He tossed and turned, letting out muffled sounds: gasps, whimpers, and sometimes, choked cries. At times, he even wept bitterly in his sleep.
In his hand, Soli held the boy's stone dagger.
It was a dagger made of a deep black stone, like obsidian. Veins of a luminous lapis lazuli color ran across its entire surface, pulsing with a faint, ghostly light. The handle was wooden, wrapped in leather straps. The whole thing was worn and ancient.
He wasn't really thinking about the dagger. His gaze was fixed on the cave's entrance, as if he were remembering something.
It was only when he noticed the sky slowly beginning to change color that he snapped back to the present.
He pushed himself off the wall, feeling tired, drained, and distant. He headed for the cave mouth but stopped short, glancing back over his shoulder.
His weary eyes fell upon the sleeping boy. For a few seconds, he just watched the boy's face, his own expression one of exhaustion and deep gloom.
He walked out of the cool cave, and the moment he stepped outside, the stifling heat and humidity hit him like a wall. He started gathering firewood.
It didn't take him long; for some reason, a pile of wood was already stacked right in front of the cave, covered with large leaves and, hand-made rope was not tied up.
This was the same pile of wood Danny had with him before he blacked out. Apparently, the gray boy had carried it here after hauling,Soli to the cave.
He didn't pay it much mind; his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
He took a few pieces of wood and left the rest. Even though his body was tired, he could have carried it all, but he didn't.
He went back inside the cave and started a fire. It took him a long time; his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
The wood kept slipping from his grasp, or he'd scrape his hands badly, but he kept trying.
A few minutes passed after the fire was lit. Soli stared into the flames, his expression gloomy, as if he were trying to cast his burdens into the fire just by looking.
Sometimes he'd bite his lip, other times he'd rub his hands together vigorously, like he was trying to scrub something stubborn off of them.
He wasn't focused on anything around him. His entire gaze was fixed on the fire, but his mind was a million miles away.
However, a sharp, tapping sound began to echo inside the cave. He didn't pay it any attention, figuring it was just mixed in with the sound of water dripping somewhere in the darkness.
Then came a sharp, ragged intake of breath, followed by a high, muffled scream of pure panic. At that, Soli was forced to look. He lifted his head toward the sound.
It was the boy.
His black eyes with their lapis lazuli irises were wide open, staring in terror at the cave entrance.
His face was a mask of pure panic. He was frantically scraping his feet against the ground and pushing his back into the wall, until he lost his balance and fell to the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body trembling.
What could terrify the savage boy this much?
Soli looked in the direction the boy was staring. What he saw sent a chill down his spine, so sharp it made the hair on his arms stand up. His own eyes, heavy and tired just a moment before, flew wide open in horror.
There, at the mouth of the cave, were white creatures. The creatures from last night! The ones with the large, pointed ears, slit-like noses, and black eyes that sucked you into a pit of darkness .
Dozens of them were standing at the cave's entrance, all staring right at Soli and the boy.
Soli jolted to his feet. But the moment he moved, the terrifying creatures opened their mouths and let out screams.
The sound echoed violently inside the cavern, amplifying it, making it louder and louder, as if they were surrounding him from all sides. The noise was almost loud enough to burst his eardrums.
The number of creatures increased; their screams brought many more.
He slammed his hands over his ears to block out the shrieking, but it was useless.
The sound was deafening, seeping through his fingers as if they weren't even there.
Soli clenched his jaw, biting back a scream, but he never heard it. He couldn't even hear his own voice.
It felt like his brain was being crushed from both sides by the sheer pressure of the noise.
Meanwhile, the boy trembled violently on the ground, drowning in his own tears. The lapis lazuli in his eyes seemed to be rolling back into his head, as if the sound was trying to tear his soul from his body.
The shrieking stopped abruptly, replaced by a powerful, rhythmic THUMPING that made the cave floor shake like a minor earthquake.
Soli looked up. The monsters were charging straight at him.
He was trapped at the back of the cave with nothing but a solid wall behind him.
His eyes darted around in a final, desperate search for a way out—a lifeline. His gaze then fell on the boy, who was practically lifeless on the floor, submerged in tears.
He wasn't too far, but in the split second it would take to reach him, the creatures would have already devoured the boy and started their feast on Soli's own flesh.
"SHIIIIIT!!..." Soli screamed in despair.
He was exhausted, hurting all over, but he didn't think. It was pure instinct.
He lunged forward, grabbed the boy by his long, tail-like hair, and yanked him backward with all his strength.
It was a final, desperate surge of adrenaline, fueled by the imminent danger closing in on them.
He grabbed the boy and shoved him against the wall, shielding him with his own body, pinning him between his arms and the stone.
Soli clenched his jaw, eyes squeezed shut, a muffled groan escaping his lips. But from the corner of his eye, the boy saw it all—Danny's brave, desperate stand.
Then, a new scream echoed through the cave, this one even more hideous than the last. But... nothing happened.
he kept groaning, eyes shut tight, teeth gritted. It took him a few seconds to finally open his eyes and process that nothing was tearing into his back. He slowly, so slowly, turned his head to look.
The creatures were right there. Standing just a few meters away, completely blocking the path to the cave entrance.
They shifted back slightly, trying to edge closer through the darker shadows along the cave walls, but it was useless. Their mouths opened and closed slowly as they stared downward, making a disturbing mix of clicks, taunting whispers, and provocative hisses.
Soli lowered his head, his eyes following their halted advance. Then it hit him.
His eyes flew open.
"The... the fire."
The creatures had stopped just short of the fire's reach.
"You're afraid of... fire?"
It was more of a question, and he wasn't sure if it was the flames themselves or something else that held them back.
His mind raced, piecing together everything he'd seen since they first appeared with their apparent fear of the fire.
And then, a survivor's smile spread across his face—the kind that holds more exhaustion and sarcasm than any real triumph.
He lifted his gaze to the horde gathered before him and spoke in a ragged, breathless voice:
"You're not just afraid of the fire... You're also afraid of... bright light!"
He let out a shaky, broken laugh. It was a sound laced with mockery and utter weariness, as if it was dragged from a chest more exhausted by survival than by the danger itself, all while wearing that same sarcastic look.
He let out a sigh, a flicker of relief washing over him. All he had to do was keep the fire burning until morning, and these creatures would return to wherever they came from.
But the sound of cracking wood cut through his shaky laugh.
The fire had devoured most of the wood in its core, and sooner rather than later, it would demand its next offering.
He glanced behind him. His expression froze for a few seconds.
The sarcastic look vanished, the triumphant smile slowly crumbling, replaced by eyes wide open with devastating disappointment.
The reserve firewood... was just five small sticks. There was no way it would keep the fire alive until morning.